


Confronting the Enemy

by A_F_S_M_A_S



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: AU, Canonical Character Death, Gen, Identity Issues, POV Alternating, Redemption, Rose Tico is Queen, Sort Of, Swearing, The working title for this fic on google drive has been, canon is merely a starting place and where I go from there is none of Disney's business, episode 9 and everything in it has been ignored, many characters are tagged but really this is about Rose and Kylo, my research for this is episodes 7 and 8 and browsing wookiepedia for a bit, this takes place right after TLJ
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-30
Updated: 2020-06-30
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:39:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24975469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_F_S_M_A_S/pseuds/A_F_S_M_A_S
Summary: Ben Solo was no more when Kylo Ren accepted Supreme Leader Snoke’s offer. Kylo Ren was no more when a man, now without a name, accepted an offer from a woman from nowhere.Kylo Ren wanted to finish what Darth Vader started.The man without a name finally gets to.He gets to follow someone back into the light and live to walk among his former enemies and face the consequences of his actions.
Relationships: Ben Solo | Kylo Ren & Rose Tico
Kudos: 1





	Confronting the Enemy

It was a short enough distance from the hangar bay to their destination that he did not see much of the station. Any open doors were shut as they approached, trying to hide what little they had from his eyes. Two Resistance soldiers walked behind him, blasters trained on his back. Another two walked to his left and right, each with a stun baton in hand. The pilot walked immediately in front of him. It was hard to believe that Jakku wasn’t so long ago, when he was the captor and the pilot was the captive. The pilot was certainly different than the others. Most of the Resistance fighters he met… captured in the past tried to be silent. The last thing they said before they broke was the same mantra the pilot used. _“The Resistance will not be intimidated by you_. _”_ But the pilot had actually managed to keep his humor as he looked death in the face. For a time, at least.

Things had changed so much. The metallic mask the pilot had mocked was in pieces, and the pilot himself had nothing humorous to say. Maybe it was his own turn to say something funny.

The pilot punched in the code for the room onto the pad next to the door. He spoke without turning around to look at the prisoner behind him. “You attempt to leave this room without permission, you will be shot. Everyone has been told that whether it will be to stun or kill is up to them.”

The room, if one could call it anything but a cell, was meager and miserable. The light from the ceiling was dim and blinking, only filling the room with the hum of electricity. One might assume the Resistance was conservative with their power usage, were it not for the fact that the rest of the station that he saw was bright enough to show the stains on every Resistance uniform. A bed without a blanket or a pillow jutted out from the wall opposite the door. At least he could get a look at any assassin who came in before they killed him. There was a window above the bed, but the view had nothing to offer. Just a lonely black sheet interrupted by a handful of stars, none of them a part of any recognizable system. To be honest, it was a surprise that the Resistance had a space station like this, one that, to his knowledge, was completely unknown to their enemies. A First Order star destroyer would have made quick work of it, but he supposed the Resistance had to make do with what little they had.

He stepped into the room, and the door was shut immediately after him.

They left his hands free, not that it mattered after they confiscated his… confiscated Kylo Ren’s lightsaber. There was nothing to do but wait for someone to come and get him. He sat down on the bed, resting his elbows on his knees. This was the first time that he had been alone with his thoughts. Whose thoughts those were... he had no idea.

Kylo Ren killed Ben Solo when the temple went up in flames, and she killed Kylo Ren when his grandfather’s lightsaber pierced the Supreme Leader’s body. Who was he now? Not a Jedi. Not a Sith. Not a father’s son or a master’s student. The girl from nowhere told him that he was somebody, but had not yet told him who that was.

He didn't know how much time had passed when his thoughts were interrupted by the beeping noises of someone using the cell’s keypad. He half expected the girl. Even now, having chosen her, and by extension the Resistance, over the First Order did not seem real. He had sensed her pain and anger, and witnessed her tap into it on Starkiller. He still remembered the way she looked, surrounded by dark wood and snow, illuminated by his grandfather’s lightsaber. She stalked towards him as Kylo Ren stumbled away, her shoulders back and fists tightened. He remembered the hot air escaping from her nostrils, the way her teeth were bared against him. It had made him-made Kylo feel like a dog facing a wolf. He thought he could be the wolf’s teacher. The wolf almost killed him. Yet, in the end, she chose to save him instead.

He half expected his mother. Kylo Ren couldn’t pull the trigger. Maybe it was the last of Ben Solo holding the Sith back… no. Ben Solo died a long time ago. What held Kylo Ren back was a mystery to him, and would remain a mystery. Kylo Ren was dead too. Could the man he was now look her in the eye? With the New Republic in ashes, Leia Organa could sentence him however she wished. Even if she had to run it through some committee but chose not to, he knew no one would hold her accountable for executing what they still saw as Kylo Ren. The thought brought a breath of laughter to his throat, remembering conversations he overheard as a boy, of Leia Organa venting to Han Solo about her frustrations with the reformed Senate, the endless bickering between the Centrists and the Populists. Han Solo had quipped, in his usual fashion, about how easier it had been when she could just boss people around as their general or princess. Leia Organa had groaned then, saying something about her time as a junior legislator under her senator father, or her queenly mother’s lessons, or all the time she spent leading a war could not have prepared her for the bullshit of remaking a broken government. He understood why Han Solo had once said that he was definitely his mother’s kid-

 _No_ , he told himself. _Those are someone else’s memories_. Leia Organa’s son died a long time ago.

When the door opened, it wasn’t either of them. It wasn’t any of Ben Solo’s uncles. It wasn’t the traitor or the pilot that Kylo Ren fought against. It wasn’t anyone he knew.

It was a girl he never met before.

* * *

The station had been operated by a skeleton crew, with just enough people to keep the lights on, keep it in orbit above the moon, and to keep it hidden from enemy scanners. Still, the station’s crew was quick to help the remnant of the Resistance that had made it aboard the Millennium Falcon, taking the wounded to the medical bay, unloading equipment, etc. Perhaps they felt guilty over their helplessness as they received the transmission from Crait. Rose took some comfort in knowing that at least someone had heard and wanted to help, but had been unable to do so.

Rose’s injuries were minor, which she took as a miracle given the insane stunts she had pulled within the last few days. Instead of allowing herself to be taken to the medbay by a crewman, she grabbed the small medkit she kept on her person at all times to the station’s mess hall. Finn had already applied some bandages to her cuts and bruises, so there was little for her to do. No one was coming to check on her, and there weren’t any alerts for a needed mechanic. She pulled out a nutrient bar from her pack, but found little energy to eat it, despite her hunger. As she looked around at all the empty seats, faces of those she would never see again came to her.

Eshyla, who had been the strongest, most beautiful woman she had ever met. Aside from mom and Paige, of course. There was no mistaking Eshyla for anyone else, with her gruff voice, muscles, the scars that marked her lip, cheek, and the base of her left lekku, and the way she swaggered into rooms, completely sure that she was the most dangerous person in it. Rose’s parents were the ones to first show her how to shoot a blaster, but Eshyla showed her how to wield one as if she was born with it. She felt small as Eshyla hovered over her, adjusting her hands to show her the proper grip. Rose wished she had that strength, that confidence, that came to Eshyla so easily. _“You’re gonna give them hell, kid_. _”_

Palan, who had such a gift for language, coding, and intergalactic etiquette that they called him an organic protocol droid, much to his annoyance. One night, after a lot of heavy drinking, Rose, Paige, and the others had found Palan asleep. Astounded at how he never woke up during the ruckus they caused, Eshyla and Paige started sticking balls of cotton to his horns. The next morning he had held them all hostage while lecturing them of just how insensitive it was to treat a zabrak’s horns in such a manner. _“I’m never going to drink again,”_ she muttered as she massaged her aching head. Perhaps it was her age, for Palan showed an uncharacteristic amount of clemency as he passed her a glass of water. _“At least you can learn, Rose_. _"_

Commander Korrie, who had been the voice of the Resistance on more than one occasion. Nix, who had been good with numbers and could usually be counted on to keep his cool under pressure. Ello, who normally kept to himself but was always counted on to have their backs when the blasters came out. Finch, Spennie, and Cat, all invaluable parts of Cobalt Squadron.

And… there had been Paige. It was then that Rose realized that she had been fiddling with her totem. She thought it would be nice to have someone’s shoulder to lean on, but no one was there.

Word had gotten out about her electrifying treatment of the would-be deserters, and while only a few of those who ran afoul of her had made it back to this station, someone had still talked. It stood to reason that word of her unsanctioned mission with Finn had also gotten out. She had received looks of respect, of hidden intimidation, some of disregard. Maybe some of them thought she was brave for that mission. Or maybe they thought she would crash them all into a sun if it meant taking out the First Order with them. Either way, no one felt like pulling up a chair to keep her company.

The only person she had now was Finn. Finn, who had squeezed her hand and given her a smile before leaving her to be with his other friend. It made sense, Rose relented. He was a larger than life hero, she was a hero just as big. That other girl was a Jedi, who had saved them all and ensured their escape. And Rose was just… Rose. Not many had wanted to know her for most of her life. They always wanted to know Paige. Paige, who was older, taller, smarter, tougher. Paige, who could always see through Rose’s pretenses, who always knew when she was upset over something. In such moments, Paige would wrap an arm around her shoulders and pull her into a hug, saying things like, _“You’re gonna shine brighter than a star, Rose. The whole galaxy is gonna see you.”_

Suddenly, the sound of chattering from a nearby hallway interrupted her train of thought.

“Is it true what they’re saying?” she heard an unfamiliar voice ask. “Is he really on board?”

“It’s true. The bastard came over to our side on Crait.”

“I can’t believe this.”

“Join the club.”

“What are they going to do with him?”

“I’d know what I’d do with him if I was the General. Hell, give me five minutes alone with that bastard, I’ll show him why he never should have messed with the Resistance.”

“Where is he now?”

“He’s on the next floor up.”

Rose thought it over for a moment, of everything she had done for the Resistance and of all the things that could happen to them tomorrow, of the way Finn described his and Rey’s fight against him, and then made her way upstairs.

Two guards, both on edge, were stationed outside the door. She didn’t recognize the Ithorian, but she did recognize the human guard as Haro Tiff. Haro had been one of the first people she met after joining the Resistance, though it had not been a pleasant meeting. Haro was arrogant, rude, and quick to look down on people. Paige had been the one to put it best: _“Just because someone’s on the right side doesn’t mean they aren’t an asshole_. _”_ After their flight from D’Qar, Venka and Sham were two of the first would-deserters she had subdued. As she dragged their bodies onto a lift to take them to the brig, she had looked up at the doorway to see Haro, who had frequently associated with them, standing there with a packed bag. _“This isn’t the communication room_ , _”_ he had said, trying and failing not to look guilty as he turned around and left. Rose had more important matters than dealing with him, so she had yet to report him for his failed attempt at desertion.

She could use that.

Rose boldly stepped out into the hallway in full view of the guards. “I’m here to see the prisoner,” she announced.

“Commander Poe was clear,” the Ithorian said. “No one sees him without proper authorization.”

“I have the proper authorization.”

Haro laughed. “From who?

“Let me rephrase that. You’re going to let me in, Haro.”

He sneered in that way that made Rose want to punch his teeth out. “And why would I do that?”

Rose took a step forward, right up to his face. “Because if you do, I’ll have no reason to tell the General or Commander Poe of what you tried to do with Venka and Sham.”

That shut him up and wiped the smug grin off his face.“Just make it quick, and don’t tell any of the brass,” he said, keying in the security code. The door slid open, showing a room that changed between black and dimly gray as the ceiling lights flickered. Rose took in a slow breath, and stepped into the cell. _I can do this_ , she told herself. The door closed behind her as the lights steadied, finally letting her see him.

 _Fuck_. Whenever she saw his image on the holonet or in a Resistance report, Kylo Ren had seemed as big as an AT-AT, a towering, black war machine that cut down cities and planets before him. His infamous mask was gone, but the man remained. His long face and sunken eyes were contorted in confusion at the sight of her. The poor lighting couldn’t hide his pasty, sweat-stained skin. Even sitting down she could see how wide his chest was, how his limbs were too long for his body. People said the Force gave the Sith the power to choke people with a wave of their hands, but the man before her didn’t need magic powers to kill.

 _I can do this_.

* * *

She looked so small as she entered, the door shutting behind her. Her attire spoke more of a mechanic or a technician than a soldier or officer. There was a blaster and a taser at her belt, both in easy reach of the hands she had tightened into fists at her side. Not that either could adequately protect her from him, if he chose to be aggressive. Her lips were pressed hard together, hiding the gritted teeth beneath. He could see the slowness of her breath, sensing the rage burning within her that she was trying to control. Or, at least, trying to control how she showed it.

“Who are you?” he asked, remaining seated.

She did not answer.

“Is there a reason you’re h-”

“Do you know how many of my friends you’ve murdered?” she asked.

And there it was. On Crait, he had heard the cheer go up when Rey emerged from the dead Supreme Leader’s ship. They must have shared stories about her, the girl who defeated the infamous Kylo Ren. A bit of hope to keep them warm as the reality of their pursuers closed in behind them. Then again, their hope wasn’t for naught.

Through the hull, he had heard the traitor say her name and the sound of his footsteps as he ran to embrace her. He felt the joy swell within her as she hugged him. It was then that he understood. She would never have chosen Kylo Ren, for she had already chosen them. She had chosen him.

The joy in the crowd died when he had emerged, revealing himself to the last of the Resistance. The traitor stepped in front of Rey, blaster drawn and pointing at him. The captain and his pilots followed suit. Among the clatter of sound, he heard some of what they were saying to each other.

“Is that who I think it is!?”

“What’s he doing here!?”

“He should be in cuffs!”

“What’s he doing with the Jedi girl!?”

He knew this would be his life when he took Rey’s offer. At least the woman before him now had the courage to look him in the eye and stand alone against him as she hurled her vitriol at him.

“I doubt any answer to that question will do anything but make you angry,” he answered.

“That much is true. But you’re still going to answer my questions.”

“And why would I do that?”

“Because I’ve earned them, Sith.”

He leaned back against the wall. “Have you?”

“Are the rumors true?”

He shrugged. “What rumors? I don’t know what passes for idle talk among the brave Resistance fighters.”

She steadied herself, afraid of her own question. “About you. Are you… were you one of the new Jedi?”

He paused. She never told the Resistance who he was. Of course she didn’t. His mother-Ben Solo’s mother had done everything in her power to keep the knowledge of her parentage a secret from the galaxy. Its revelation at a Senate hearing for her nomination to First Senator destroyed her political career. It only made sense that she wouldn’t tell an army of fools who worshiped her that she had also given birth to Darth Vader’s heir. Kylo Ren had never given much thought to how his enemies perceived him. He had only ever wanted their fear, and for them to lose hope at the mere sight of him on the battlefield. After Order 66 and the deaths of Darths Sidious and Vader, it only made sense for the Resistance to wonder where Kylo Ren had come from. Snoke had cloaked himself in mystery, a phantom menace to unnerve the galaxy. But Kylo Ren had been his master’s blazing sword. The mask he wore to honor his grandfather had been the face of the First Order’s power. No mother would admit to unleashing that on the galaxy.

“Do you really want the truth?” he asked.

She nodded. “I order you to tell me.”

He forced a smile to his lips, part of him reveling at the sight of her discomfort. “I’m more than just a fallen Jedi,” he told her. “I was born Ben Solo-Organa. I was trained by my uncle, Luke Skywalker himself, to become a Jedi. Right up until the day I set his temple on fire.”

Her carefully controlled face broke underneath her shock. “You’re a liar,” she tried to insist.

“Look me in the eye,” he said. “Do you really think I’m lying?”

The rage that she had restrained exploded into fury. “You were born with everything!” she snapped. “Your parents saved the galaxy! You were taught by Luke Skywalker himself! How could you have thrown that away!?”

Rey said the same thing to him. Rey had the same devotion to loved ones, the same feeling of disgust at someone who turned against family, the same righteous anger, the same quickness in dispensing judgment. They were so alike, but something about this girl made him far angrier. At least Rey had understood some of what he had felt, of what Ben Solo and Kylo Ren had felt. Only someone with the Force could hope to understand an inkling of what he had been through. But the woman who stood before him? What good would it be to tell her of the way Snoke’s voice sounded in Ben Solo’s mind when the old master told him that there was something wrong with Ben, that he knew what Ben needed? What would she know of his promises of greatness that had fueled Kylo Ren into becoming the most feared warrior in the galaxy? She knew nothing. She had no strength in the Force, no insight, no wisdom. What could she understand? This girl was nothing.

“What do you know about me?” he hissed as he rose to his feet. Just as he thought, he towered over her. Some of Kylo Ren must still have been in him, as he felt glad at the quick flash of fear he sensed mixed in with her anger. The feeling sickened him as well. “You really think you can just come to me and hurl your contempt at my face? You don’t even know who you’re really speaking to. What do you know about anything, fool?”

To her credit, the woman standing before him did not move or flinch as he voiced his exasperation. She was afraid of him, but not enough to back down. “I know enough,” she replied. “I know you’re a killer. You’ve helped murder billions of people. And from what I’ve seen, I know more about anger than you do, Sith.”

“Do you?”

“You think anger makes you strong? You know of nothing of real anger.”

 _Peace is a lie, there is only passion_. Those were the first words of the Sith code, one of Snoke’s first lessons to him-to Kylo Ren. This foolish girl wasn’t just arrogant, she was insulting him.

He opened his mouth to put her in her place, but she spoke first. “I was still a kid when the First Order attacked Hays Minor. We had next to nothing, but still you forced us to strip our planet dry. You stole our children, murdered our elders, and used my home as target practice! I’ve lived with anger every day of my life. But, unlike you, I know how to not let it turn me into something as ugly and hateful as you. I use my anger to protect the people I love. You’ve only ever used it to destroy whatever you hated. That’s why you lost. That’s why people like you will always lose.”

His fingernails dug into the palms of his shaking hands. He wanted to scream, rage, put this… this fool back in her place.

“Tell me, Kylo Ren-”

“Don’t call me that,” he growled, but still she persisted.

“Tell me, what do you believe in? What cause does your anger fuel? What grand victory has your anger ever given you? Tell me, Sith-”

He grinded his teeth together as a lump in his throat obstructed his breathing.

“Tell me, what has your little anger accomplished outside of death and misery?”

He took in a sharp breath through his nostrils.

“Tell me!”

His lips curled back, and he let out an ear-splitting roar that shook the metal walls surrounding them. With a quick step he closed the distance between them, raising his hand to strike down at her with a closed fist. Through his seething gaze he saw the quick flash of her drawing something from her belt. He stopped short of his attack as the barrel of her gun slammed into his chest. In his ire, he had forgotten she was armed. It was then he realized that the only reason he wasn’t dead was because she chose not to pull the trigger. The passion he had always relied on in battle failed him. _But it’s not Kylo Ren’s anger_ , he had to remind himself. _It’s just yours_. 

As he looked down at her, he saw there was a shaking in her stance, but she held her ground. Slowly, he closed his mouth, steadied his breathing, and took a step back, never breaking eye contact with her.

She broke the silence that hung between them. “You may have left the First Order, but that doesn’t change the past. If you’re here to help us with the war against the First Order, I’ll leave you to the General. But if I ever think you’re going to betray us, if I think for one second that you’re going to hurt Finn, or Commander Poe, or anyone else here, I’ll kill you myself.”

He looked at her for a moment, saying nothing. His anger burned furiously within him, as it always did, but there was something else along with it. Respect, maybe? No. Only Rey had earned his respect. But, as much he didn’t want to, he had to admit this woman had a durasteel spine. If she was Force sensitive, that passionate will of hers could have made her an empress. 

“Do whatever you think is right, rebel,” he said.

With one last glare of defiance, she holstered her weapon and left his cell without another word. As the door shut behind her, he was left alone with the flickering light and his hard bed.

**Author's Note:**

> This has been in my drafts for quite some time.
> 
> Remember that one scene in book 3 where Zuko has joined Team Avatar, but Katara privately threatens to kill him if she ever suspects that he's going to hurt Aang? That pretty much inspired this fic.  
> (for the record, Kylo/Ben is not Zuko nor has he ever been anything close to my boy, my fire lord Zuko. Even in this fanfic where I put him on the long, long road of redemption, he's basically emo Vegeta.)
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> A.F.S.M.A.S.


End file.
